


Christmas

by notjustmom



Series: Ironstrange [9]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Christmas fic, Established Tony Stark/Stephen Strange, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-05 01:37:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 12,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16801096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: A collection of Christmas stories, set in a universe where Stephen Strange and Tony Stark are married and adopt Peter Parker from birth. They are who they are, all their powers and talents intact, personalities might be slightly different, but recognizable. And yes, I am making Howard Stark as evil as possible without going too over the top. Other than that, you may expect the usual overt domestic fluff from these bits, from the same verse as Peter's 16th Birthday and Turkey Day.





	1. First Christmas Morning - Holiday decor

**Author's Note:**

> These holiday ficlets are inspired by prompts by MissDavis:
> 
> Holiday decor   
> Star  
> You better watch out  
> Snowman  
> Believe  
> Fireplace  
> Memories  
> Music  
> Gift  
> Do you see what I see   
> Comfort and joy   
> Gingerbread  
> Frost  
> A beautiful sight  
> Toy soldier  
> Season’s greetings  
> Warm and cozy  
> Celebration  
> Silent night  
> Home   
> Hopes and fears  
> Feast  
> Nightmare before Christmas  
> Peace

"Stephen?"

"Hmm?"

"Stephen, wake up."

"Wha - Tony? Is Peter okay?"

"Were you up all night?"

"Most of it." Stephen slowly sat up on the couch and blinked up at Tony. "Too much?"

"Too much for a Macy's Parade float, or too much in general?"

Stephen shrugged at the lights and the blinking star that sat atop the ten foot tree and the train track he had spent most of the night putting together, not to mention the dozen or so packages stacked under the enormous Fraser fir, then looked down at his feet. "I - uhm. I never -" He ran a trembling hand through his hair, then looked up to find Tony grinning at him.

"It's beautiful, doll-face. Thing is, he's only six weeks old. He won't remember it."

"I didn't really do it for him. Yes, I want to give him everything, you must know that. It's just, I remembered that you once told me that you never had a real Christmas, a tree, or a train - presents to open on Christmas morning, and before I didn't have an excuse to do it, but now that we have Peter..."

Tony sank to his knees in front of him and laid shaking hands on his sharp cheekbones. "You did all this for me?"

"Of course I did. I didn't put the decorations on the tree, I thought you might want to help do that later, when Peter can watch, or when he's napping, or -."

Tony kissed him lightly, then pulled away and shook his head. "I didn't get you anything, with Peter not sleeping - I completely lost track of what day or month it was, and then last night, he finally slept, and I passed out. I didn't hear anything. I'm sorry -"

Stephen pulled him into his arms and settled them together on the couch, then kissed his forehead as Tony's eyes closed again. "You have nothing to be sorry for, don't you know you are gift enough? You and Peter are all I need. You must know that by now."

"Stephen Strange, you ridiculous man, when did you become a romantic?"

"The day I met you, Tony Stark. The day I met you."

Tony offered him an exhausted smile, then groaned as Peter's howl was heard over the baby monitor. "Oh, god..."

"Shhh, just rest, I'll get him." Stephen untangled himself from Tony then carefully got up from the couch, and headed for Peter's nursery.

"Stephen -"

"Merry Christmas, Tony.

"Merry Christmas, Stephen."


	2. Second Christmas - Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is away on a mission on Christmas Eve...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a bit for PatPrecieux...

Stephen rocked Peter in his arms as he stared out the window, keeping an eye out for Tony. He hadn't wanted to leave, not on Christmas Eve, not when Peter was becoming 'fun' finally, but he'd had no choice.

He snorted at the memory of Tony turning back and hovering at the edge of the roof as he had kissed him one more time 'for luck' and gazed down at the small boy, fighting so hard to stay awake, as he always had, barely a year old and yet so aware of everything. He tried to recall anything he had read about child development back in med school, but he had breezed through it without much thought, as he did anything that wasn't directly related to neurosurgery. His sheer arrogance, his impatience back then.

"Da!" Peter squawked suddenly and Stephen froze. His first word and Tony had missed it. 

"No, Da isn't home yet, Pete. He promised he'd be back as soon as he could."

"DA!" Stephen shook his head, but squinted at the window, all he could see was the reflections of the Christmas tree lights and the first bright star of the evening. It wasn't possible that Peter was trying to say 'star' was it? Damn. He should have paid more attention when they had gone over language development in children, he didn't think it mattered, he had never had any intention of having children, never thought it would be -

"You should be in bed, little one." Stephen started as Tony was standing behind him, as if by, yes, magic. Stephen spun around and gave him a cursory examination, nothing seemed broken this time, he was barely out of breath, and yet, he had brought the scents of the universe back with him, he could taste the winds on his lips as he kissed him with that gentle, but desperate urgency that told him he'd had another close call. 

"Dar!" Pete squealed happily as he lunged at Tony. Tony caught him in his arms and drew in a shattered breath, and let it out slowly, trying to get his breathing under control. 

"'Star?' You're right, kiddo, just a second." He handed Peter back to Stephen and picked up the star from the box, then took Peter carefully into his arms, had Jarvis engage his boots at their lowest setting, and Stephen held his breath as they cautiously jetted up to the top of the tree and Tony - 

"WAIT!" Stephen yelled, startling all three of them, as he searched for his phone in his robes. Tony was the one who usually took the photos, they must have thousands of them by now, and Peter wasn't even a year and a half yet, but he wanted this, needed to have this image, not just in his head, but - "Okay, now, I'm ready."

Tony rolled his eyes and muttered something to their son, but managed to offer Stephen a weary but brilliant 'Tony Stark' grin as he turned just enough so Peter was in the shot, and he placed the star on the top, then slowly eased his way back down to the floor. 

"He thought you were a star," Stephen whispered in wonder.

"What?" Tony stared at him, then down at Peter who had settled against his shoulder, somehow finding the suit comfortable enough to snuggle against, and back at Stephen again.

"He saw you coming back. I thought he was just saying your name, wanting you, but he could see you, I couldn't - not with the reflection of the lights, but he picked you out, knew you were home before I did." 

Tony kissed the little boy's head and handed him back to Stephen. "Let me get out of this tin can and into something more comfortable, yeah?" He kissed Stephen again, this time it was less anxious, more passionate, and it left Stephen breathless. 

He turned to watch Tony make his way through the living room and he mumbled under his breath, "I love you, Stark."

"Yeah, Doc. I love you, too."


	3. Third Christmas - You better watch out...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just more fluff... Peter is two, and is a climber.

"Do you think -?" Tony mumbled wearily as Stephen's fingers came to rest in his hair.

"Mhhhmmm?"

"Do most two year olds - Peter!"

Stephen sighed and opened his eyes to see Tony gently pulling Peter down from the Christmas tree, again.

"No, Tony, I do not think most two year children climb Christmas trees, but I was a neurosurgeon, not a pediatrician."

As Tony sat down on the couch and began to pull pine needles from Peter's blond curls, Stephen began to sing quietly:

"You better watch out...  
You better not cry  
Better not pout..."*

"He doesn't usually cry or pout."

"No."

"Do you think something is -"

"I think all children are different, and I think -" Stephen had to let out a contented sigh as Peter snuggled against Tony's chest, and rested his hand over the glowing light from the arc reactor, humming as he closed his eyes and fell asleep. 

Tony turned to look at Stephen as he gazed down at the sleeping boy and whispered, "I think we are two of the luckiest guys on the planet."

Stephen shook his head and kissed Tony lightly, then wrapped his arm around his shoulder as Tony's eyes fluttered shut and he leaned against him. "In the universe."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Santa Claus is Coming to Town, written by John Frederick Coots and Haven Gillespie, first sung on Eddie Cantor's radio show in November 1934.


	4. Fourth Christmas - Snowman

"Doc!!" Stephen turned at Peter's voice to get smacked in the face with a handful of snow. He rolled his eyes and gave chase, until Peter slipped and rolled over onto his back in the six inches of newly fallen snow and stuck out his tongue. "Doc, come 'ere."

Stephen dropped next to him and looked up into the mid-morning sky.

"Pretty." Peter smiled as another snowflake hit his tongue.

Stephen closed his eyes and nodded.

"Da."

"He's busy working on something."

"'e's sad."

Stephen turned and looked at his son and sighed. "Snow... just reminds him of something."

Peter blinked at the sky again and grabbed his father's hand. "Make him happy."

Stephen squeezed the small boy's fingers lightly and smiled at him. "What do you suggest?"

"Cookies? He likes cookies."

"Yeah, he does like cookies. Come on, let's go in and get dry, and -"

"Make cookies."

"Right." He got to his feet, then plucked Peter from the snow and dusted the new flakes from his hair. "Make cookies."

"Mmmm... do I smell... cookies???" Tony walked into the kitchen and couldn't help but laugh. Both Peter and Stephen were covered head to toe in flour and powdered sugar, looking more like snowmen, than anything else. 

"An attempt at cookies," Stephen grinned at him and offered him a plate of frosted sugar cookies, more frosting than cookie and more sprinkles than frosting. 

Tony chuckled and kissed Stephen's nose, then humming happily stuck his finger in the bowl of icing and closed his eyes. "My mom's recipe - Stephen -?"

Peter climbed down from his chair and flung his arms around Tony's knees. "All better, Da?"

Tony blinked down at him, then scooped him up in his arms and kissed his forehead. "Yeah, kiddo, all better. How did you know I needed cookies?"

"Cookies make everything better." Peter snuggled against him and Tony caught Stephen's eye.

"Yeah, they do, don't they? Hey, after we get this disaster area cleaned up, you want to go outside and build a snowman?"

"Really?" 

"Yeah, really."

"Love you, Da."

"Love you, too, Pete."


	5. Fifth Christmas - Believe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is four and a few weeks old...

Tony stopped in the doorway of Peter's room as Stephen finished reading to Peter before bed. Sometimes it was a bit of Tolkien, Shakespeare or from one of his own old engineering books, Tony wasn't sure why, most of it was obsolete. Tonight it was...

"...He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,  
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.  
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight—  
'Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!' ”*

Stephen closed the book and leaned over to kiss Peter good night, but stopped as Peter asked quietly, "Doc? What do you believe in?"

Tony froze, barely daring to breathe. He had never asked Stephen questions like this, but he realised at that moment, he wanted to know more than anything what his partner, best friend and husband actually believed in. 

"What do I believe in?" Tony could hear the surprise in his voice, perhaps a slight smile was dancing in his eyes, as he tucked the blanket around Peter. "Hmm... I haven't ever given it much thought, honestly. I've seen a lot of things that I know I wouldn't believe if I hadn't seen them with my own eyes -"

"No. I mean -"

"I know what you mean. I don't believe in one all powerful being. You know who I believe in most?"

"Who?"

"Your Da. Even when he doesn't believe in himself. Especially on those days. I believe in him more than anyone else I've ever met, because even when he makes mistakes, he makes them because he tries harder than anyone else ever has to do the right thing. Not many people are even brave enough to try. And he doesn't do it for money or to be the best at something. He does it because he has a big heart, not many people see that. You and I are very lucky that we get to see it every day, aren't we?"

"Yeah, Doc. The luckiest. Night night. Love you." 

"Love you, too, Peter." Stephen leaned over and kissed his cheek, then turned off the light and began to get to his feet.

"Love you too, Da," Peter whispered, then rolled over and fell asleep.

Stephen turned and walked over to where Tony was still standing, unable to flee, barely able to breathe, and gently wrapped his arms around him. "Didn't you know?"

Tony shook his head and whimpered into his chest, trying to hide the tears that were streaming down his face.

"I'll always believe in you, Tony. Always."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *from the poem, "A Visit from St. Nicholas" by Clement Clarke Moore


	6. Sixth Christmas - Fireplace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a tiny moment

"Stephen?"

"Hmmm..."

"Where are you?"

Stephen turned from the flames as they danced in the fireplace, and catching the brief look of concern in Tony's eyes, laid a trembling hand on his face. "Sorry. It's silly."

"Tell me, anyway." Tony threaded his fingers through Stephen's hair and leaned down to press a kiss over the nose crinkle that appeared whenever he was thinking too much.

"There are times when I catch myself, when I know I'm happy, and I wish that I could just trap it in a loop, live in that moment forever, and then I remember I could, if I chose to. You and Peter and me, we could exist in that one perfect sliver of time, you would never get hurt again, or get any older, and Peter. Peter would be five forever, he would be safe, and always smiling, laughing as he was tonight."

"You would choose to spend an eternity with me, as imperfect as I am?" Tony smirked down at him, then saw the look in his eyes.

"Didn't I promise you that when I married you?" Stephen mumbled, nearly too quiet for Tony to catch, and returned his gaze to the firelight again.

"Yes, I suppose you did, didn't you." Tony blinked at the flames, then looked down at the man in his arms, and found there was nothing else to say, nothing to do but be there in that moment with the man he loved more than his own life, so he did just that.


	7. Seventh Christmas - Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legos... a bit angsty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to Lego lore, the first Millenium Falcon came out in 2000, but I'm messing with the timeline a bit... because I can. ;)

"One more present." Stephen grinned at Peter, and he can't help but giggle.

"What?" Tony glared at Stephen, and grumbled at Peter, then sighed as they presented him with an enormous perfectly wrapped present.

"I picked it out. Doc helped me wrap it... I thought, if you weren't busy tomorrow -"

Tony blinked at him, then began to carefully undo the wrapping, before he couldn't take it anymore and ripped the paper off. His eyes got big and he cleared his throat before he whispered out, "you got me Legos. The Millennium Falcon? This is an original - from -"

"Yeah. I asked Doc what he'd think you'd like, and he -"

Stephen watched Tony's face do the thing it did when he wanted to run down to his workshop and hide because he didn't want to show how touched he was, and stepped in to rescue him, as he tended to do. "Pete -"

"No. No - it's okay. It's - fine. It's just. When I was a kid. Star Wars was my favorite thing. Like ever. I had everything. All the figures, the lunch box. I was Han Solo for three, no, four Halloweens in a row. No short comments, Stephen. And the year this came out - it was the only thing, the one thing I asked for. And my dad - he knew it. And he bought it, for me, but - when I asked him to build it with me... he, uhm. Hmmm... told me he was too busy, told me to ask - Jarvis - the real Jarvis... our butler, to build it with me. Sorry. Pete. No, seriously this is the best present, the best present ever, and yes, yes, of course tomorrow - first thing tomorrow, after breakfast, you and me, we'll build this bad boy together, yeah?"

"Yeah?"

"Of course, yeah. Come 'ere, kiddo." Peter flew into his arms and as Tony wrapped his arms around him, he glanced at Stephen and whispered, "thank you, Stephen."

"I love you."

"I know."


	8. Eighth Christmas - Music

Tony looked up from the keyboard, and smiled sheepishly at Stephen.

"Sorry, I know it's early. He couldn't wait."

Stephen yawned and kissed his nose. "It's okay. Woke up and you weren't there."

"There's coffee in the kitchen."

"Hmm."

Stephen went downstairs to the kitchen and closed his eyes as he listened to Tony's gentle voice. "Almost, just breathe, Pete. You don't have to be perfect. It's music, it's supposed to be fun."

"But I can't -"

"Kiddo. When you get older, your fingers will be longer, and then you'll be able to do anything on this thing, don't worry about hitting the wrong key, it's how you learn."

"How old were you when you started?"

"A little younger than you. Six. I was six and a half." Stephen poured out a cup of coffee and tried to imagine what it must have been like for a six and a half year old Tony, then shook his head.

"He didn't think I could do it."

"Hmm?" Stephen sighed as he felt Tony's arms around him.

"My father. He never thought I'd be good at anything. Started with the piano. He was a brilliant jazz pianist. He could play any instrument he touched. Technically he was a master." Stephen heard Peter bang out chopsticks once, then twice, and again. "I don't want him to ever think I don't believe in him."

Stephen put down his cup and turned to look at Tony. He shook his head and looked into the strong, determined face. "He knows. Listen to him. If he plays, he's going to play because he loves it. Not because he has to prove anything to you or to me. He knows you love him, that we love him. I see it in his eyes, Tony."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Dad?" Peter yelled out.

"Yeah?"

"Listen to this!"

"I'm listening!" Tony called out, then closed his eyes as Peter banged out chopsticks again. He smiled up at Stephen, then kissed him lightly and shook his head. "We'll be sick of hearing that in about an hour."

"Yeah, I know. Coffee?"

"Please."


	9. Ninth Christmas - Gift

"Hey, kiddo, how was school?"

"Okay." Peter dropped his bag next to Tony's workstation and sighed.

"What's going on?"

"Well. I made something for Doc for Christmas, but I dunno -"

"You don't know...?"

Peter slumped down into the chair and shrugged. "I mean, he can - he can have anything he wants, what he can't make with magic, you can build down here, or buy for him."

"He'll love it."

Peter shook his head. "You don't even know what it is."

"Doesn't matter."

"What do you mean it 'doesn't matter'?"

"Pete." Tony watched his son for a long moment, then rubbed his hands through his hair and got up from his chair. "Come on."

"What?"

"Just come with me."

"All right."

Tony led Peter to Stephen's reading room, set off from the noise of Tony's machines and suits and the outside world, soundproofed and softly lit. He pressed a button to reveal a secret room and moved aside for Peter to see.

"On these walls, in the drawers of these cabinets, is every single drawing, every poem, every flower, leaf and rock you've ever given him."

"How - why - seriously?"

"Seriously."

"But -"

"Because he's always seen you as a gift. You are everything to him, Pete, and anything you have given him is a part of you, so he's kept it safe, because he loves you, more than anything."

"So..."

"Whatever you made or wrote for him, he will love just because it came from you. D'ya see?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Dad." Peter turned and wrapped his arms around Tony as they both let out a sigh of relief.

"Anytime, kiddo, anytime."


	10. Tenth Christmas - Do you see what I see?

There were times when Tony would catch Stephen watching him silently from across the room, no... watching wasn't the word, it was more observing, searching, as if he were trying to figure something out, or make a decision about something, tonight was no different, and yet...

"What do you see when you look at me?" Stephen asked him quietly as Peter was busy downstairs tinkering in the workshop after dinner.

"What do you mean?"

Stephen shook his head and turned his gaze to the half finished glass of wine in his hand. "Never mind."

"No, Stephen, tell me..." Tony put down the book he had been reading and pushed his reading glasses into his hair, then got up and shoved his hands into his pockets and walked over to where Stephen was sitting on the couch. "Alright. Objectively speaking, you are put together well, well-designed, I'd say." He took the glass from Stephen's hand and put it on the table next to the couch, then laid his hands on Stephen's face and studied the features he had known and loved for so many years now. "Two beautiful eyes, which have seen far too much suffering, and yet only look upon me and our child with such infinite kindness and patience -"

"Tony -" Stephen tried to turn away, but Tony shook his head.

"Nope, nuh-uh. That adorable nose crinkle that appears usually when I've done or said something ridiculous, or you are thinking too hard about something, yep, that, right there." He moved between Stephen's legs and kissed the space between his eyes and sighed as he felt Stephen's hands rest on his hips. He drew back slightly, then closed his eyes as Stephen turned his head just enough to kiss the inside of his left wrist. "Your lips - I'm sure in some distant universe there are libraries full of books of poetry dedicated to just your beautiful lips; odes, and haiku, cinquains and sonnets in languages I wouldn't understand anyway."

Stephen snorted, but Tony laid a finger on those lips and shook his head. "I see a man, a man who carries burdens no one should bear on his own; a man whose love has saved me, patched me up, and sent me back out into the world time after time, no matter what it costs you to let me be who and what I need to be. I see the man I love more than I can ever possibly tell you. It's been nearly twenty years now since I first laid eyes on you, Stephen, and even if we have another 50, 60 years, it won't be nearly enough time for me." He kissed Stephen's forehead and closed his eyes as Stephen's arms wrapped around him and held him tightly in place. "Does that answer your question?"

Stephen nodded and they took a breath together and paused to listen to the silence for a moment before Peter called out, "Dad! Come see - come see what I've made."

"Be there in a minute, kiddo." He kissed Stephen lightly and offered him a smile, then turned and dashed down the stairs. "I'm coming, Peter... wow, that's excellent. Stephen, come see, you gotta see this..."


	11. Eleventh Christmas - Comfort and Joy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a hospital fic, more hurt and comfort than comfort and joy, but there is a bit of fluff here, as always.

Peter paces back and forth in the waiting room, then stops short as he catches the look on Stephen's face in a mirror. Both he and his Dad were always honest with him when either of them had been hurt; this isn't the first time they've waited hours to find out when they could take Tony home, but it's the first time on Christmas Eve, and it is the first time he's ever seen Stephen really worried. He drops into the seat next to him and reaches for his hand.

"Doc."

"Yes, Pete."

"He's -"

Stephen looks into Peter's eyes and clears his throat. "Has he ever told you how we met?"

Peter shakes his head, then wraps both of his hands around Stephen's and finally lets go of the breath he'd been holding.

"He was eighteen, I was twenty. He had just graduated from MIT, I knew who he was of course, who didn't, even back then, he was - still is - the most brilliant person I'd ever seen. And the rudest."

"Dad was rude?" Peter asks, trying to keep the smile from his face.

"I wasn't much better, thought I knew everything, but he basically did, and he was younger. I was in a diner, had just got my coffee - I didn't eat much back then, lived on coffee and pie. I didn't have much money, and sleep always seemed to be a waste of time. I was always in a rush, had stuff to do, and people - well, people were always in my way, and it wasn't any different that day. I was about to leave the restaurant when your Dad barrels into me and knocks me on my rear end, and my coffee to the floor, completely drenching me, and himself, and he just laughs. You know that laugh when he's been surprised by something, caught off guard?"

"Yeah, Doc."

Stephen closes his eyes and holds Peter's hand tighter. "He was the first person who ever really saw me. Really saw me. I was ready to jump up and punch him when I realised who he was, and he knew I knew, but he just looked at me, sitting there on the floor, then he helped me to my feet, and said, 'I'm Tony, and you're beautiful.'"

Peter snorts. "No, he did not."

"He did. And except for the months when he was captured, and when I got hurt in the car accident, and then went to Kamar-Taj - we haven't been apart since that day. Peter. I don't know if he - this time - he's the strongest person I know, but, I don't know, I'm not sure if even I can do anything to help him."

"Doc. You know if there's a way -"

Stephen nods then looks up to see the doctor coming towards them, and Peter helps him to his feet. 

"Stephen."

"How -"

"He's going to be fine, it's going to take some time, but he -" The doctor pauses and glances over at Peter.

"You can say anything in front of him."

"To be honest with you, Stephen, I wasn't sure he was going to pull through this time, but he's one of the toughest guys I know. Just keep him off the streets for a few months, hmm? You're Peter, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"When they brought him in, he was saying your name. I just thought you should know he was thinking about you."

Peter nods and wraps his arm around Stephen, and asks, "can we see him, please, it's Christmas Eve, well, now it's Christmas Day, and -"

The doctor meets his eyes and nods. "Sure, he might not wake up for a couple of days, but it won't hurt, if you sit with him. I'll take you back."

"Kiddo?"

"Hey, Dad." Peter drops the book he's been reading and gets to his feet.

Tony clears his throat and tries to get his bearings, when he sees Stephen asleep in the bed next to him that had been moved in the night before, and he swears silently to himself. "Sorry about messing up Christmas."

Peter rolls his eyes and reaches for Tony's hand. "There will be one next year."

"How close -?"

"Pretty close this time."

"How mad is he?"

"Not mad, just worried, a bit scared. Probably won't let you out of the house by yourself for a year."

Tony barks out a laugh and immediately regrets it. "That really hurts."

"You know, I do know all the words."

"Yeah, I know, kiddo, because you learned them from me. Doesn't mean I have to say them." Tony closes his eyes and squeezes Peter's fingers a bit harder, then opens his eyes to look over at Stephen. "He ever tell you how we met?"

Peter shakes his head and watches Tony's face light up in a way he doesn't see very often.

"It was in a diner. He had just bought coffee -" Stephen opens his eyes as he hears Tony's voice and Tony winks at him. "He was, still is, the most beautiful person I'd ever seen in my life. You didn't think you'd get rid of me that easily, did you?

"And you're still an asshole." Stephen mutters as he sits up in the bed and glares at him.

"Language, Stephen, there is a child present."

"Two actually." Stephen shakes his head, and Tony can tell from the look in his eyes just how close it actually was this time.

"I'm sorry about Christmas."

"Don't be an idiot." Stephen slips from the bed and walks over to Tony's side, then leans over him to lightly kiss his forehead. "We'll be here when you wake up."

Tony looks like he wants to argue with him, to tell them to go home, but knows it's not worth the energy and closes his eyes again. "Merry Christmas, Stephen."

"Yeah, Merry Christmas, love."


	12. Twelfth Christmas - Gingerbread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen has a cold, and Peter makes breakfast on Christmas morning... he's eleven.

Stephen sneezed again and growled at the tissue Tony handed him, but took it and blew his nose, then tossed it into the wastebasket next to the bed. "You should be with Pete, it's Christmas morning, I'm just going to be miserable and grouchy all-" he sniffed at the air for a moment and shook his head. Even with a bad cold, he could smell gingerbread baking. 

It was the one good thing he remembered from his broken and vagabond childhood, his 'nana', not actually related to him at all, but the best of his foster parents, he'd stayed with her the longest, and each Christmas, she would bake Gingerbread - not cookies, but a dark spicy cake with a lemon curd, for breakfast. She was the one who made him believe he could be anything, do anything he put his mind to, but she had died before he had finished college. An aneurysm. Her death gave him the drive to become not just a neurosurgeon, but to be the very best - 

"Aaaaaachhhhhhhhhhoooo! Damn it! When - wha -?"

Tony kissed his feverish forehead, pressed another tissue into his hand and slipped from the bed. "I'll be right back, try to go back to sleep, hmmm?"

Stephen nodded and groaned as he pulled the blankets over his head.

Tony found Peter in the kitchen, frowning into a bowl of lemon curd he had just taken from the fridge. 

"Can you taste this, I think it's close, I tried to remember when he showed me last year, but Doc - today I realised he makes it from memory, doesn't use a recipe, so I had to find something online, so it's probably not going to be exactly -"

Tony grabbed a spoon from the drawer and dipped it into the thick pale yellow sauce and closed his eyes as he tasted it. "Damn, kiddo, that's good."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Tony nodded and ruffled Peter's hair. "It's perfect, Pete. Cake ready?"

"I think so -" He moved to the oven and pulled open the door, and the kitchen was filled with the rich scent of molasses, ginger and cinnamon. "I just hope -" Peter bit his lip and pressed a finger in the center, blowing out a sigh of relief as it lightly bounced back. "Ready."

"Come on, sleepyhead."

"Hmmmmph? Wha - oh - god that smells amazing... Peter?"

"He's too nervous to watch you try it. He had to look up a recipe, so he's not sure if it will be exactly what you remember. Let me help you sit up, hmm?"

Stephen nodded as Tony put the plate down and rearranged the pillows behind Stephen's back so he could sit up, made sure he was comfortable then sat next to him, and offered him a spoonful of cake with a generous bit of curd on top. Stephen rolled his eyes but opened his mouth, then closed it again and moaned happily. 

"Yeah?" Tony watched Stephen's face change suddenly, as tears started filling his eyes. "Stephen? What is it?"

Stephen mumbled, "he did it."

"What?"

Stephen shook his head, then cleared his throat. "I could never get it right. All those years - she never wrote it down, it was in her head, I learned it by helping her, watching what she did, but I could never get it to taste the same after she died. "Vanilla, it was vanilla." He tossed the blankets aside, and hurriedly dressed, then went into the kitchen.

"Doc - you should be resting. Did I do - is it okay?"

Stephen wrapped his arms around Peter and pulled him into his chest and held him tightly for a moment, before muttering into his hair. "Thank you, Peter. You figured out the last bit, I could never get it to taste like it did when she made it."

"The vanilla?" 

"What made you think of it?"

Peter shrugged in his arms, "I don't know, it just made sense, I guess. Doc?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry that you didn't have a family when you were growing up, I don't know what I would do if I didn't have you and Dad."

Stephen's breath caught and he held him tighter. "You'll never have to know, Pete, I promise." Damn. He shouldn't have promised -

"Merry Christmas, Doc. You need to go back to bed, come on." Peter pulled away and grabbed Stephen's hand and led him back to the bedroom where Tony was fast asleep, and the gingerbread was gone. "There's plenty more, Doc. Just rest, okay?"

Stephen chuckled but nodded, as he slipped under the covers, and closed his eyes. "Merry Christmas, Pete. I love you."

"Love you, too, Doc."


	13. Fifteenth Christmas - Frost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next two following deal with Peter becoming Spiderman, and how his fathers deal or not deal with it, so not so fluffy for a bit... this chapter takes place two days before Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for the formatting...

Tony hated frost. He knew it was ridiculous. But it reminded him of the approach of winter, and even as a child, he strongly disapproved of the coldest season of the year as a concept, and had sketched out numerous ideas in journal after journal over the years how to defeat winter, wipe it out of existence, but for all of his genius, year after year, winter always came.

“Tony?” Stephen’s worried voice bounced around inside his helmet as he was flying home from yet another mission in Eastern Europe.

“Stephen.”

“It’s Peter.”

“What about Peter?”

“Peter got on the bus this morning, I saw him get on the bus. I just got a call, he never got to school.”

“What do you mean he didn’t get to school?” Tony could feel himself begin to panic.

“Stark. Breathe, listen to me, just breathe -”

“Has he seemed, I don’t know, odd, lately to you?”

“Tony. He’s 14. He’s hitting puberty hard - maybe, I don’t know. No one knows where he is, Tony. I’ve tried all of his friends’ parents, he’s never done anything like this before, and I can’t - I can’t see him, I try to focus on him, and it’s just dark.”

“Is the tracker in his bag on?” He heard Stephen swear under his breath, then walk down to the workshop.

“Sorry, I don’t usually switch it on, never had a reason to before - Tony.”

“Stephen, please, just -”

“I just turned on the news, the Brooklyn Bridge - something is happening on the bridge, Tony, and that’s where his bag is, at least that’s where it was.”

“Fuck.” Tony reversed his direction and increased his speed to maximum as he headed towards the bridge he just passed minutes earlier.

“Sir-”

“Not now, Jarvis.”

“Yes, sir.”

The news crews were there, emergency personnel were on site, police, luckily it was still early in the day, and the first snowfall of the season wasn’t due til tomorrow night, but even in the daylight visibility was crap - and then he heard it.

“He’s in the water, the kid’s down there,” someone yelled out. He closed his eyes and tried not to feel anything as he looked down to see Peter floating below.

“Hold on, kiddo - what the hell are you doin’ here?” He dove down into the water and scooped his son into his arms then took off for the nearest hospital. “I found him, Stephen, he’s unconscious -”

“Tony - there’s video.”

“What do you mean there’s video - a video of what?”

“He stopped a bus from going over the side of the bridge, but -”

“What do you mean, Peter stopped a bus?”

“I mean he stopped a bus with his bare hands, it’s fuzzy, you can’t tell it’s him unless you know it’s him, but, he - just put his hands out and he stopped it, but -”

Tony looked down at the teenager in his arms and held on tighter, as he flew faster than the armor was meant to go. “But?”

“The momentum of the bus pushed him off the bridge and into the water - ten minutes ago.”

“Ten fucking minutes? What the fuck were they -”

“Dad? Sorry - I - I’m sorry, Dad.” 

“Hold on, kiddo, just hold on. I’m taking him to Memorial, Stephen. Just get there, I don’t know-”

“I love you, Tony.”

“Yeah, love you, too.” He felt Peter crumple against his shoulder, and the frost started to take over the place where his heart had once resided.


	14. Fifteenth Christmas - A Beautiful Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since I have all three parts ready, I made the executive decision to post them all, cuz I can. <3 LOL.

“Tony.” Stephen shot up from the chair he had been sprawled in for the last ten minutes, as he saw Tony striding purposefully behind the stretcher they had put Peter on. Without his armor, in the black track suit he wore, he looked so - afraid, lost, all too human. Damn it. He wanted to reach out to touch him, but he knew that look, Tony had gone into survival mode. He had them stop the stretcher, then leaned down over Peter, whispered something in his ear, kissed his forehead, and let them take him away. 

“Hey.” Tony stopped in front of him and shook his head. Not here. They had known each other for so long that words were unnecessary most of the time, but Stephen needed him to say something, anything, right now. “He’s breathing on his own, his vitals are stabilizing. Whatever happened to him - made him - the way he is now, seems to have protected him when he hit the water.”

Stephen nodded and crossed his arms, so he wasn’t tempted to reach out and touch the vibrating figure in front of him. They needed to take their son home, deal with whatever would happen next at home, but first they needed to know just exactly what it was they were dealing with. “Did he say anything?”

“He apologized to me. He knew I was there with him, and he apologized before he passed out the second time. I can’t. I can’t be here, Stephen. I’ll be back. I just can’t be here right now. I’m sorry.” He laid his trembling hands on Stephen’s face and looked into his eyes, and after kissing him softly, let go of his face, turned on his heel and walked away.

“Stephen?”

“Hmm. Oh. Christine. Listen, I need you to do some blood work on Peter, I think something - something, hmm… unusual has happened to him, but don’t, don’t put it on the computer, anywhere that anyone can see it - don’t tell anyone, please?”

“Stephen.”

“Christine.” His voice dropped to a whisper and he pulled her into the janitor’s closet. “He was able to stop a bus, with his bare hands, he fell off a fucking bridge stopping a fucking bus, Christine, and he was in the water for at least ten minutes, in December. He’s alive, Christine. He spoke to Tony. He shouldn’t be alive, and I need to know - I need to know what’s wrong with our son, and Tony just took off, he can’t -”

“Hey. Shhh. Stephen. You know how Tony is, he’ll be back. He hates hospitals, who can blame him? Most days I hate hospitals too. I will take care of it, you need to go be with Pete, worry about taking care of him right now. He still needs to be warmed up, his core temp isn’t where it needs to be, but he’s fine, as fine as someone could be after falling off a bridge… the three of you, I swear.”

Stephen let go of the breath he had been holding, smiled sadly at her, then walked down the hall and into Peter’s room.

“Bruce.”

“Tony? What’s going on - Merry -”

“Something’s happened to Peter. Today - he, he stopped a bus -.”

“Are you sure you want to be talking about this on a phone?” Tony chuckled, and remembered that as paranoid as he was, Banner took it to another level altogether.

“You busy?”

“Nah, I’ll put the kettle on, yeah?”

“Might need something a bit stronger today.”

“Yeah…” Banner turned on the television and swore to himself. “Yeah, I think we both will.”

Peter turned his head and looked over at Stephen. “Doc?”

“Yeah. How do you feel, Pete?”

“Like I fell off a bridge.” Peter tried to grin at him but failed. He searched the room, and closed his eyes. “Dad?”

Stephen sighed. “He needed some air - he’ll be back.”

“Is he mad at me?”

“NO. Of course not. You know how he is about hospitals.”

“Yeah. Shit. I don’t know what happened, Doc, honest. I was on the bus, going to school, and then all of a sudden, I heard the other bus in my head, no, not the bus, the people on the bus - no, not really hearing, it was like I felt their fear, and then I just felt weird, and then I wasn’t on my bus anymore, but I was standing in front of a speeding bus, and instinctively I put my hands out, and it stopped, but it kept moving -”

Stephen nodded and brushed a curl from Peter’s eyes. “We’ll figure it out, Peter. Christine is going to take some blood, run some tests, so we can see what we’re dealing with.”

“Doc - you won’t let them -”

“No. No one is going to take you from us, I swear, Pete. You are our son, and no matter what, you will always be ours. I swear. Do you hear me, Peter.”

“Yeah, Doc. Thanks. I’m kinda tired, will you stay with me?”

“Not going anywhere, Pete. I promise.” He leaned down and kissed Peter’s forehead, then took the boy’s trembling hand in his and sat back to watch him as he fell asleep.

“So, you aren’t at the hospital with Stephen and Pete, because…”

Tony put down his glass, closed his eyes and leaned back against the couch. “Because I’m an asshole, and a coward.”

Bruce shook his head and refilled Tony’s glass. “You are neither of those things, Stark.”

“I’m scared, Bruce, for him -”

“Of him a bit, too?”

“NO. Shit. Maybe, yeah. What he’s becoming, what he already is - he stopped a fucking speeding bus, Bruce, with his 14 year old hands. I don’t know, he doesn’t even know what else he’s capable of. He saved a busload of people this morning, and that’s a good thing, but if people find out, find out who he is, it’ll be -”

“Hell.”

“Yeah.” Tony rubbed his face and turned to look at his friend. “What the fuck do I do, Bruce?”

“Tonight, my friend, you are going to drink until you pass out, then spend tomorrow on this couch. Christmas morning, you are going to go to that hospital and beg for forgiveness from your family. Then, the two of you are going to take your kid home, and love him. And we will help you. All of you. You and Stephen and Peter aren’t alone, Stark. You have family, you have us.”

“Yeah?” Tony smiled a lopsided smile at him, tossed back the double that Bruce had poured out for him, stretched out on the couch, and fell asleep.

“Stephen? Bruce. He’s here with me. I’m going to keep him here tomorrow, you know you don’t need to worry about him when you are dealing with Peter’s stuff. Tell Christine to send the blood samples to me, and I’ll tell you what’s what. No. He’s out cold. Best that way, don’t you think? Yeah. He’ll be there on Christmas morning, I promise.”

Sure enough, at 11:54 on December 24th, Stephen looked up from his phone to see Tony standing in front of him… and he had to admit, as corny as it sounded in his own head, he was a beautiful sight for exhausted eyes.


	15. Fifteenth Christmas: Toy Soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was the bit that was written first, and it made me think I needed to write the other two bits first... and this is my canon of how Peter's parents, especially these parents would react to their kid becoming something new... <3

"You shouldn't have left."

"No. I know. It was a shit thing to do."

"He needed you. If anyone would understand what he’s going through -”

"No. See. That's where you're wrong, Stephen. I can’t begin to wrap my brain around this. I'm nothing like him. I am just a man, just a man in a can who can fly, and blow things to bits. I don't even have powers like you, I'm just more arrogant than a muster of peacocks, slightly more stubborn than a herd of donkeys, have more guts than sense, and I’m more anxious and paranoid - than I don't even know what, but all that’s why you love me, right?”

“Tony -”

“Peter, he's become, still becoming something else altogether; already, he doesn’t have a choice, Stephen. At least you and I, to some extent got to choose to be who we have become. I mean, he can decide to not be what he is, whatever that is - but if he does, he’ll be fighting against every instinct inside him. We have raised him to care about other people, to try to do the right thing when it's possible - to be kind and helpful, and now. Damnit, Stephen, he's only fourteen. How can I help him with this? I mean, Cap, even Banner would be better at this kind of stuff."

"Sure, maybe they can help him later, when he needs to talk through things, but neither of them is Peter’s father, you are. You can help him right now by going in that room and sitting next to him, like he has always done for you every time you ended up in a hospital bed. He just needs his Dad, Tony, and that's you. Yes, he needs both of us, but you're his Dad, and he needs to know you still love him, no matter what happens to him next."

"How can you possibly think - of course I do, I will, I am, I’m here, Stephen. I pulled him out of the damn river and thought he was dead, Stephen. He was frozen, and I thought I was too late, he was supposed to be at school, in gym class -”

“I know. Remember, I know you, Tony. I heard it in your voice, I know. I saw your face before you took off again. He just needs you. I needed, I need you. Need to know we can do this, together, for him, for us - if anyone can, it’s the three of us, right?”

"Stephen. I'm so sorry. I was just hoping he wouldn't have to - I wanted him to have the chance to have a real life, a chance to be happy and now, his life - it won’t ever be his own, once people know who, what he is."

"He's still Pete, Tony. He's just, a little stronger, okay, a lot stronger, and faster than..." Stephen shook his head and bit his lip so he wouldn’t start laughing or crying, Tony wasn’t sure which.

"What is it, something you’re not telling me?"

"He's still afraid of spiders."

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

Stephen shook his head again as he finally allowed himself to rest against Tony's shoulder and sighed as Tony wrapped his arms around him and whispered into his hair, "I'm sorry, Stephen. I'm so sorry. I got scared. I’m afraid, I don’t know - I’m just not sure how to keep him safe now."

“Hey kiddo.”

“Dad?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Thanks for - for pulling me out of the water. All I could think of was stopping the bus, I didn’t think of what would happen after, and when I hit the water, it was just so cold, and I -”

“It happens, Peter.”

“Shit. You only call me Peter when - I’m so busted, aren’t I?”

“Language.”

“Dad -”

“You could have come to us, to Doc, to me. I could have - well, honestly, I don’t know what I could have done, but -”

“No, Dad. I didn’t know, honest. Until I could see the bus, in my head about to go over the side of the bridge, and then I got all tingly, like I could feel, hear - I don’t know how to explain it, all I knew was that I had to stop the bus - I had been feeling a little weird all week, but that’s all, I swear.”

“Peter, do you understand, they did blood work - did Doc explain it to you?”

“Yeah - I didn’t really understand all the scientific mumbo-jumbo, but short answer, I guess a bad arse spider bit me, and my DNA is now part spider, and because of that, I’m someone who can stop a bus with his bare hands.”

“Listen, Peter, tomorrow, when Doc and I get you out of here, you and me, we’ll go in the workshop, and we’ll come up with something as bad arse as that spider, and I’ll help you, we’ll help you figure this thing out. And I’m sorry for taking off. I just - I freaked out. I wasn’t sure what - I wasn’t sure how to help you, and I got scared.”

“You’re here now, Dad.” Peter reached out a hand to him and squeezed Tony’s fingers.

“Damn, son. First thing, we have to work on controlling that grip of yours -”

“Sorry.”

“No, kiddo, it’s not your fault. We’ll figure it out somehow. Trust me, yeah?”

“Always, Dad.”

“Look at that,” Tony pointed a shaky finger up at the clock on the wall. “Midnight, it’s Christmas Day, Pete. Merry Christmas, kiddo.”

“Merry Christmas, Dad.”


	16. Seventeenth Christmas - Season's Greetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's Christmas Letter to the Avengers...

December 21, 20-

Hey everyone, it's Pete -

It's getting close to Christmas, and since it's been while since our last family picnic, just wanted to let everyone know how things are here at Casa Supreme.

1\. School is going well, apart from those times... well, you know. 

2\. Dad is bored out of his mind, and it's getting worse since his right arm is in a cast, again... you don't even want to know. Doc is in deep meditation most of the time, only a couple more weeks to go, thank goodness.

3\. Cap, thanks for skyping the other night, appreciate it.

4\. Bruce - any chance you can come visit, Dad really needs a friendly face these days - Doc is still annoyed and rightfully so from the 'incident' that caused his arm to be in a cast. They'll be fine, they always are, eventually, it's just when Dad does risky shit, Doc gets scared and then he gets angry, and portals off in a snit, which pisses Dad off...

Peter leaned back in his chair and looked over at Stephen who was watching 'A Christmas Story' for the third time in two days, then scowled at what he had typed out and deleted everything except for number one. 

2\. Everyone is doing well. Dad is working on another prototype, while Doc is getting into the spirit of the season.

3\. We will be throwing the annual shindig on New Year's Eve, as always so if you aren't busy, we'd love to have you.

4.

"Doc."

"Nope."

"You know -"

"Pete."

"Doc. He knows. I think he does shit -"

"Language."

Peter rolled his eyes, got up from his chair, walked over to the television and turned it off. 

"Peter."

"Nope. You haven't really spoken to him in three weeks."

"He nearly got himself killed again."

"He's aware of that."

"Peter - he's getting too old to keep doing this, he's slowing down just enough -."

"Doc. Not the approach I'd start with."

Stephen crossed his arms and closed his eyes. "Do you know -"

"Yes, Doc. I do. Honestly. And I tried to stop him, do you know how nearly impossible it is to get Dad to stop doing something when he thinks it's the only way? And it was. And you know it."

They sat in silence for a moment and glared at each other.

"GO down there. You are both grown ups, you just happen to be the more grown up one, usually. You know he's sorry, and yes, he'll promise not to do that particular stupid thing again, and he won't do that _particular _stupid thing again because he promised you -"__

____

____

"Peter. There's going to be a time when you aren't there to pull him out of the rubble, or I will be just half a second too late, and then -"

"Go tell him that. Tell him, please, Doc. I know, of course I know, he does too. He's miserable and you know he doesn't sleep well when you are angry at him, and he's still in pain -"

"What?"

"You know he doesn't say when he's in pain, especially when he did it to himself, just please? Go down there and just fix it? Consider it my Christmas present, yeah?"

Stephen rolled his eyes at Peter who was still blocking the television, but nodded, then grinned sheepishly at him. "Can you start dinner?"

"Of course." Peter smiled at him and went into the kitchen, while Stephen sighed and opened a portal to the workshop.

"Show-off," Peter muttered under his breath, but let out a sigh of relief as he opened the fridge, then shook his head and pulled out his phone to order pizza again.


	17. Seventeenth Christmas - Warm and Cozy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the make up scene...

Tony swore as Stephen emerged from the portal behind him. "Strange, you know I hate when you do that."

"What hurts?"

"Fuck. He told you. I told him not to let you know." Tony took off his protective goggles and turned to face his husband. "I may have cracked a couple ribs, it just hurts when I breathe, that's all."

"Stark."

"I'm sorry. I know it was stupid, but I had to -"

"I know you did."

"What? You never - geez. Stephen."

"If Peter hadn't been able to pull you out - he nearly got killed himself doing it."

"I know. I won't -"

"Don't promise me. Just -"

"I know you think I'm getting too old to do this, that I've lost a step. And maybe you're right, but who else is going to -"

"Tony."

Tony spun away from him and pushed his goggles back on.

"Love."

"Don't."

Stephen placed a trembling hand on Tony's shoulder and rolled his eyes as he watched him hold his ribs as he crumbled against the tabletop.

"When I was trapped, in all that rubble - all I thought about was you. How I didn't kiss you before I left that morning. I was already thinking, planning ahead, and I left before I kissed you, you were reading, and I didn't want to bother you. That's what I was thinking about when I was running out of air, was that I didn't kiss you good-bye."

"There wasn't anyone like you before, maybe you can train one of Cap's people? He's got some good people, Tony. You can't keep putting yourself at risk. I can't - do you know how important you are to me? No, don't nod at me. Turn around, damnit."

Tony drew in an annoyed, shallow breath and Stephen shook his head at him as he turned to face him again, but gave in when he saw the pain in his eyes. "Idiot." Stephen laid his hands on Tony's face, the bruises had nearly faded away completely, they were now just an ugly yellow, as opposed to the deep purple of a couple of weeks ago. "No one can ever replace you, Tony, you will always be Iron Man, love, but maybe it's time to let someone else wear the armor?"

"Who is going to protect Peter?" Tony's voice faded as Stephen kissed his forehead, then his nose.

"Peter can take care of himself for the most part, and he is learning from you what not to do. Now, I'm going to take you upstairs to our room and see if I can do anything to fix those ribs of yours. Do not argue with me." He gingerly lifted Tony from his chair and drew him close to his chest, then opened a portal to their bedroom and stepped inside.

"Better?" Stephen asked as Tony peeked at him from under the covers the next morning.

"Much. I am sorry. Really sorry. But, since when did you start watching the news again?"

"Ever since, ever since the bus on the bridge. I - if something happens to you or Peter, I need to know, Tony, and sometimes, I can't see you or him in my head, I can't focus enough when I'm worried, when I haven't had a call or text in a few hours..."

"Will you - can we just stay here today? Please? I've missed you."

Stephen kissed him lightly and nodded. "I think that can be arranged, love." He gently curled around him and pulled him close. "You know, if anything ever happened to you -"

"Nothing -"

"Shh. I need to tell you. You have to understand, you are my light, Tony, my heart. Before I met you, I won't even remind you how long ago that was, I had no one. I didn't let anyone in, no one was important to me, and then you literally knocked me over, and ever since - I don't know what I will do when the day comes...

When you were missing in Afghanistan - Rhodey - I thought Rhodey was going to make me eat my phone, as often as I called him to see if they had found you yet. That was the worst time in my life, to think I'd never see you again - and the way you still so cavalierly treat your body, as if it doesn't matter what happens to you. It has always made me furious, that you don't think you matter more than anyone else in the world, hell, the universe to me, to Peter. You matter so much, Stark. Not because of what you do, what you are capable of, but because I love you, your kindness, your passion, the person you let me see who no one else gets to see. So please, please..."

"I just retired."

"Don't fuck with me, Stark."

"No. I've been thinking, and I had a lot of time to think before Peter was able to get to me. I've been talking to Cap, he's got someone - she's really something, I'll have to make adjustments to the armor- but one day she'll be better than me."

Stephen blinked at him then shook his head as Tony carefully wiped the tears that were sliding down his cheeks. "You're serious."

"Yeah, Strange, I'm serious, now can we stop talking? All that stuff you just said - ditto."

" _Ditto. _It's a good thing I love you."__

__"Yeah, yeah, it is - now, please..."_ _


	18. Nineteenth Christmas - Celebration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is eighteen...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Liz' is an original character I created/named as the person who takes over for Tony after he 'retired' the armor.

Stephen walked over to Peter by the windows and cleared his throat. "I like her."

"Yeah, she's great." Peter nodded, then bit his lip. "It's good, this, that everyone's here, Dad's missed them." He looked over at the table where Thor, Cap, Bruce, Sam, Rhodey, Liz and Natasha were arguing with Tony about something, as they always did, though MJ was holding her own, Stephen noticed. She had a definite appreciation for the absurd, and those gathered around the table were definitely absurd.

"Does she know?"

"Hmm?"

"About -"

"The other guy?" Peter asked quietly.

"He's not -"

"No, I know, but it's easier to see myself as two people most of the time. I mean, you are who you are, and Dad is definitely still Iron Man, even though he's given up the armor, he's always been him, well, ever since I've known him, but me? I try so hard to just be 'Peter' when I'm not wearing the mask... to answer your question, yeah, she's the only one who knows."

"Stark! You can't be serious!" Thor roared as he eased his emptied tumbler of ale down, then pushed away from the table. "Jordan's Bulls would demolish these puny 'Golden Warriors' as they are called! Without Curry - they are nothing!"

"Here we go," muttered Peter, but couldn't help but grin.

"Thor, you utter moron, if Jordan played back then with today's rules..." Tony got up from his chair and stormed into the kitchen, with Thor stomping right behind him. MJ winked at Peter and he rolled his eyes at her, then smiled at Stephen before he went into the kitchen to settle the dispute before something or someone got broken. MJ got up and walked over to where Stephen remained standing and shook her head. "Peter got to grow up with this bunch? Explains a lot."

Stephen raised an eyebrow down at her curiously and waited.

"He's the most, well, diplomatic guy I've ever met. The most level-headed. I've never seen him lose his temper with anyone, even when they truly deserved it."

Stephen snorted. "Well, he's -"

"I don't think it has much to do with 'the other guy', as much as it has to do with you and his dad. He is the only kid at school who doesn't have a bad thing to say about his parents." She grinned at him and shook her head. "No, I know you aren't perfect, it's just that Peter knows how important he is. He's not arrogant, just, well, aware that he has a place, if that makes sense. A lot of us don't." She shrugged and smiled at him. "If you're worried I'll spill the beans -"

"No. He trusts you, implicitly, I can tell."

"Yeah?"

"You're the first friend he's invited home for Christmas. Christmas tends to be a bit, well -"

"Weird?"

Stephen laughed. "Weird is a good word. I'm glad he has someone he can trust, talk to. The last few years -"

"He's a good person, Doc, with or without the mask, and I think what happened to him, well, it's just made him grow up a bit faster... what the -"

Stephen shook his head and muttered, "don't worry, he'll put him down. You'll have to ask Tony to tell you what happened the first time they met, then ask Thor and you'll get a completely different version..." He snorted as Thor gently lowered Tony to the floor, and laughed aloud.

"Stark, it's been far too long, I've missed our chats, enormously."

Tony grinned at him, then walked over to the table and announced, "I've got a new prototype ready. Liz - wanna give her a trial run?"

"Really? Already? You worked out that issue -"

"Yeah, come on guys, you'll love this..." 

MJ shook her head as she watched everyone get up from the table and disappear down the stairs. Peter turned to look at her, with a gleam in his eye, and she nodded at him to go. He smiled broadly at her, then followed them down to the workshop. "I love him," she whispered.

"I know."

"How?"

"I can tell from the way you look at him, how you listen, he's always been on the mellow side, but you - he breathes easier when you're around, he knows you love him. It's not - I mean, he's not -"

"Doc, I know he's different. I know, well, he's told me about the times when things get bad. I'm - can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"How did, do, you let them, I mean, aren't you afraid?"

"All the time."

"What do you do, I mean -"

"I just love them, and make sure they know, every day, and try not to stay angry, because I did get angry when Tony used to take chances when he wore the armor. Peter knows his limitations now, but when he was younger, it took everything I had not to go with them. I had to learn to trust their instincts, even though I knew there was always the possibility that one day one of them wouldn't make it home, but it's like they are cops, or firefighters, they have risky jobs-" 

"He sees the 'other guy' as a job?" She asked quietly.

"It's different for him, because he's always Spider-Man, he can't turn it off, it's not an alter-ego, it's who he has become, but when he does what he does to help other people, it's a job he chooses to do."

"He could choose not to?" 

"Of course he could."

"No, not him." She shook her head at him and crossed her arms. "Testing me?"

"No, just curious."

"Doc. It's none of my business, and you don't have to answer -"

"No, I never considered not being with him after he became Iron Man. When you know, you know. Besides, I don't think anyone else could have or would have lived with me - he's a piece of work, but -"

"You're not as chill as you pretend to be." She smirked at him, and he laughed.

"Not chill in the least."

They froze at a loud roar, then turned to look out the window as they watched Liz take off in the new armor. "Damn..." MJ whistled and nodded. "Yeah, I can see how that might be hard to give up..."

"Just -."

"I will, Doc, I do."


	19. Nineteenth Christmas - Silent Night

Stephen paused before he walked into the room, as he saw Tony standing before the window, watching the snow fall. The house was silent, save for the sounds of the two of them breathing, in tandem. He was rarely comfortable with silence between them, the absence of words, usually meant nothing good. 

But tonight -

Tonight, after a night of shared laughter with old friends; the knowledge that their son was loved, and cherished, and for another day safely sound asleep in his room upstairs, this stillness calmed him in a way he couldn’t explain to himself.

After a moment, he found he had moved to stand behind Tony without being conscious of having closed the distance between them, and slowly wrapped his arms around him. He felt him startle slightly then sigh and relax into him, and they began to breathe together, as one. There were words he could say, but they had said all the words before, in all the ways they could possibly say them to each other, so he was content to simply press his cheek into Tony’s hair and hold him just a tiniest bit tighter as the snow continued to fall.


	20. Twenty-second Christmas - Home and Nightmare before Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> combining two prompts today...

"Shhhh..."

"I'm trying! Damn! Dad?"

"What the hell?" Tony bolted from the couch and stared at Peter and MJ carrying in a Christmas tree. "Pete? Michelle? What -?"

"Sorry, Dad, we thought -" Peter leaned the tree against the wall and sighed as he turned around to search Tony's face."Did you and Doc have another fight?"

"No, I just -" Tony caught his breath and shrugged.

"Again?" Peter whispered as he gently laid a hand on his father's arm.

"Again. Yeah. Funny, kiddo. What time is it, anyway?"

"It's early, too early. Sorry we woke you up, Dad. Go back upstairs, you know how he gets when he wakes up and you aren't there. We'll set up the tree and make breakfast later, hmm?"

Tony nodded. "Glad you're home, kiddo, we've missed you. Michelle, good to see you, too. Night." He yawned and rolled his eyes at them, then turned and went upstairs.

"Tony? What is it -?"

"Peter and Michelle, they're home. Tried to sneak in a damn Christmas tree." He sat on the edge of their bed and trembled at Stephen's touch.

"Same nightmare?" Stephen asked quietly, and pulled his hand away.

"I don't know. It was just jumbled. Bits of everything. Mostly just dark and cold." He rubbed his face and felt Stephen move to sit behind him. "Just wish I could shut it all off, sometimes, just not think anymore. I'm just so tired, Stephen."

Stephen draped his arms around him softly, and kissed his neck, then slowly worked his way across his broad shoulders, eventually the shivering diminished and the tension evaporated, until he could ease Tony back onto the pillows, and curl around him.

"You're safe. You're at home, Tony. The kids are here, it will be a quiet Christmas this year, just the four of us. There is nothing you need to do, there is nothing to fix, no one to save, just rest, love."


	21. Twenty-fifth Christmas - Hopes and Fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some angsty bits...
> 
> Written in honor of my nephew born on December 11, 2018, a bit of hope for the world we live in.

"Dad?"

"Peter, I'm sorry. I know you're busy -"

"Dad, I'm just prepping for my orals, I got them moved, you and Doc are more important than anything. Is he okay?"

Tony shrugged. "They aren't really saying, you know doctors, they are running tests now. One minute he was hanging the lights on the tree, as he always does, and then, he was on the floor, out cold. Maybe his heart, or something snapped in his head, he'd find that funny, I think."

"Have you eaten?"

"Hmmm?" Tony looked up at his son's face and squinted at him. "No. Can't. There's something you aren't telling me. Just tell me it's good news?"

Peter shrugged and leaned back against the wall, and stared up at the ceiling. "Yeah, well, I think it is, we're pregnant, well, MJ is, not me. I wasn't even sure if we could - didn't know if it was possible with the spider thing, and I haven't said anything until I knew that the baby was going to be - not like me, and we saw the ultrasound today. Perfect little girl, Dad, all her fingers and toes, and I'm afraid. I've never actually been afraid of anything before, and I'm terrified that I'm going to screw up someone that isn't even born yet."

Tony nodded. "You haven't been sleeping. Not good. Come on, stretch out and I'll tell you a story."

Peter sighed, but stretched out on the couch next to Tony and closed his eyes as he felt strong, but gentle fingers rest in his hair as they used to when he couldn't fall asleep when he was a kid. "Did I ever tell you about the first time I ever saw you?"

"Uh-uh."

"Doc is a planner by nature, as you know." Peter snorted then focused on the sound of Tony's voice. "We were going to be married, adopt a child before he was thirty; he was going to retire by fifty, maybe forty-five if he got bored, but then I was captured in Afghanistan, that threw his plans out of whack. Messed him up pretty badly, but when I got back, we got married, a nice, quiet, small ceremony and then the car accident happened, wasn't sure I was ever going to get him back. But even before the accident, he had set things in motion, and when he was still in Kamar-Taj, I get a call one day, you were about to be born, and they said I should be at the hospital soon. I didn't know, but Doc had set up a nursery in the months I was gone. Anyway, I get to the hospital, and they put you into my hands, this tiny little bundle of boy, and you opened your eyes and looked at me, and you smiled. I didn't even know newborns could do that. You were perfect, beautiful, and somehow I was supposed to take care of you, when I've never been good at taking care of myself -"

"Tony?"

"Christine. How is he?"

"Nothing serious we can find. I think low-blood sugar made him pass out, and he hit his head, when he fell. He has a bit of a concussion, and he feels like an idiot for making you worry especially on Christmas Eve. Peter, good to see you, you can both see him, he's changing to go home, I suggested he stay overnight, but of course, he's discharged himself."

"Of course." Tony smirked at Christine and nodded at Peter to give them a moment alone, then followed her into the room. "Hey."

Stephen looked up to meet his eyes and Tony froze. "Doll-face, nope." He strode over to him and cradled his face in his hands, then kissed him gently. "Pete's here, we're going to take you home, finish decorating the tree, I'm going to have a little bit of wine, and I'll stay up all night while you take naps, I can't even count how many times you did it for me -"

"What aren't you telling me?" Stephen grumbled, then winced at the sound of his own voice.

"We're going to be grandfathers."

Stephen's face lit up, and he managed a lopsided grin. "Grandfathers. Who would have ever thought it, the two of us?" Tony kissed his forehead, and Stephen caught sight of Pete in the doorway and grinned sheepishly at him.

"Doc."

"Sorry -"

"Don't be. Just use the wheelchair this time, yeah?"

Stephen rolled his eyes, but nodded.

"He's worried about becoming a dad." 

"Yeah." Tony sighed as he tucked the covers around Stephen and kissed him lightly, then was about to walk out of the room when Stephen opened his eyes and watched him for a moment before speaking.

"When I left for Kamar-Taj -"

"Don't. We've never talked about this, I'm not having this conversation, not now-"

"Even before the accident, I wanted to be sure you wouldn't be alone, in case something ever happened to me. When you were in Afghanistan -"

Tony fell to his knees by the side of the bed. "Please -"

"After Dormammu, I had a choice, Tony, I could've stayed, become - taken the Ancient One's place, but I remembered what it was like when you were in Afghanistan, how it felt not knowing, hoping one day you'd walk through the door, and one day you did. You came back, and yes, you were different, I didn't know you anymore, except I knew you loved me still, I knew you fought to come back to me, I'll never really know how hard. When I lost my hands, lost what I thought was most important, I forgot that my hands were never the most special part of me. I had to go to Kamar-Taj to remember that you were, still are. I couldn't be what was needed without my heart, and you have always been - so, I don't think Peter has anything to worry about. He is the man he is, because of you."

"Stephen -"

"Will you stay with me?"

Tony nodded and undressed, then slipped under the covers and pulled Stephen into his arms. "You were the only reason I got out of that cave, Stephen, those times I slept enough to dream, I dreamed of being here with you. When I got back, all I wanted was you, but you had built those walls up again, even before the accident, I thought I had lost you, and - I had been awake for three days in a row - Peter - when he did sleep, I worked, couldn't stop working, because if I had, I would think about you - when you walked in the door - well, appeared I guess, in front of me through that portal, I honestly thought I was hallucinating, and then you took him from my arms, put him to bed and you just held me, you didn't say anything, no apologies, but you were there, and you never left me again until today. I thought I had lost you, and then you took a breath and opened your eyes and looked at me, I didn't like how it felt - there have been times when I've been afraid, too many times to count, but when I thought - forgive me."

"Forgive you?"

"All those times, when I put everything, everyone ahead of you, because I always thought no one else could do it, that it had to be me - my ego has its own zip code at times."

"You were always right." Stephen whispered into his chest.

"Doesn't matter. I retired when I did, because I saw it in your face, finally, when I woke up, and you couldn't hide your feelings quickly enough; you brought me home, but you were leaving me even as you stayed. I needed you to tell me, I needed you to ask me, to let me know I was still important enough for you to stay."

"I'm so sorry, Tony, that I ever made you feel that way. I just wasn't sure how much longer I could do it, and Peter - I was worried -"

"I know. If he's learned from me how to be a good man, it's only because you were here with me all this time. Now you need to rest, I'll wake you up in a couple of hours."

"You won't leave."

"Not going anywhere, I promise." He kissed his hair and held him tighter in his arms as he drifted off to sleep.


	22. Twenty-seventh Christmas - Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The closing bit...Peter and MJ's daughter, Livie, short for Olivia is about 18 months here, Tony and Stephen are babysitting... just a bit of fluff.

"Do you remember when Pete was this small?" Tony asked as he held Livie in his arms as she slept.

"Of course."

Tony snorted and glanced over at Stephen, then nodded. "Yeah, you probably do, that memory of yours."

"I remember when he said his first word. His second Christmas."

"What was it? I don't remember."

"I tried to say 'star' and 'Da' at the same time," Peter whispered as he walked into the sitting room. "MJ went to bed. How was she?"

"Perfect, of course." Tony looked up and caught his son smiling at him. "What?"

"You. You old softie, you."

"Don't let it get around, kiddo."

"Thanks for watching her for us, it's been awhile since we had a night off. I'll put her down."

Tony shook his head. "You go ahead and go to bed, we'll put her in her crib."

Peter smiled at him and kissed both of them good night. "Don't stay up too late -"

Livie opened her eyes and yawned at him. "Dah," she mumbled quietly then closed her eyes again.

"Did she just -?" Peter whispered.

Stephen chuckled, and gazed over at Tony, whose eyes were filling up. "Go get some sleep, Pete."

Peter shook his head at them. "Yeah, right. Sleep. I honestly never thought - is it always like this?"

Tony and Stephen nodded at each other. "Yeah, more or less, usually feels like your heart is about to burst, 24/7," Tony muttered, then went back to watching their granddaughter as she snuggled closer against his chest.

"Night, Doc, Night, Dad."

"Night, kiddo. See you in the morning."


End file.
